


a truth universally acknowledged

by lowsywriter



Series: I prompt myself [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, cashier!sebastian, for my i prompt myself thingie, he is my son, i know nothing of british culture or slang i'm sorry, i love alois, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3659631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowsywriter/pseuds/lowsywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this prompt: ”You’re a store clerk and oh shit I just spotted my ex please let me hide behind your desk-thing” AU for my first tumblr otp sebaciel</p>
            </blockquote>





	a truth universally acknowledged

**Author's Note:**

> i'm trying to write more and for some reason i've been blocked for my wips so i've been writting random prompts for my otps. it's been a long time since i last wrote for kuroshitsuji but this ship means the world to me for it gave me a push into the bl world and i haven't looked back ever since. for any mistakes i'm entirely to blame because: 1. english is not my first (nor my second) language 2. i don't have a beta-reader and 3. i don't know a thing about british culture or slang; so if you find typos, weird grammar or wrong references let me know and i'll fix them. chop chop!
> 
> 19-05-15: fixed various mistakes

There are a lot of things you regret from your teenage years: bad haircuts, the emo phase and specially your exes.  This, Ciel knows because he thought when he was young and naive that dating Alois Trancy was a good idea, how wrong he was. Alois proved to be everything Ciel didn’t want: boisterous, a social butterfly and extremely touchy-feely (also, those fucking  _shorts_ of his). Ciel still doesn’t understand how could they last as long as they did, because one year and a half of constant parties every weekend is certainly more than he can handle even know, a junior in college. His poor high school body went through too much (and _fuck you_ , he has never been delicate). 

And why he is thinking about his childhood mistakes is everyone’s question. Well, he was out of milk and tea and going to Sainsbury’s sounded like a plan. A plan he’s regretting right now when he spots a mop of golden curls and purple shorts across the aisle.  He tries to back away before Alois notices him but it’s too late now, the blond is already waving in his direction so hard he almost hits an old lady in his excitement; but in an incredible show of flexiblity, the granny avoids his pinwheeling extremities and walks away glaring at the oblivious boy.

Ciel turns around playing dumb and escapes towards the furthermost cashier. Turning on his winning smile he looks up to the guy behind the desk-thing and says in his sweetest voice “hey there, I’m extremely sorry but right now I’m being pursued by my ex from hell, could you  _please_ hide me” the guy smirks (and _woah_ , holla at you handsome) and waves under his desk-thing.

Ciel is so gratefull, he doesn’t think about how undignified kneeling on a supermarket floor, hiding from someone is. Between holding a five minute conversation with Alois and losing face, he obviously choses the latter.  From where he is he can see the cashier better and the guy is fit. Tall and lean, misterious dark eyes and black hair in a messy bun he hits all of Ciel buttons. Ciel tenses for a moment, when Alois voice ask for _a short boy, pretty like a china doll and big eyes_  (hey!) and the deep mellow baritone of cashier-guy washes his worries away with a “no, sorry haven’t seen anyone like that, I’d remember someone that _pretty_ ”.

Ciel can hear Alois retreating steps and then cashier-guy (his tag reads  _Sebastian_ ) is helping him up; for some reason he is smirking as Ciel mumbles a _thank you_. They are very near in the narrow space behind the desk-thing and Ciel cheeks burn in embarrassment or shyness, he can’t tell.  

“Looking at you know I see the resemblance” Sebastian says, caging Ciel in.

“What are you talking about?” Ciel shots back, his voice soft but his glare harsh.

“You _do_ look like a china doll” the arsehole answers, giving him an honest to god once over, eyes burning with something fierce.

“I do not,”  _he does not_  “if you let me leave, I’d be thankful” he is not blushing,  _goddamn_.

Sabastian steps back but grabs at Ciel’s wrist (softly, at least he is not a complete bastard) and hands him a scrap of paper with a string of numbers on it.

And as Ciel is making his way out of the supermarket he is not thinking about calling him. Or inviting him over his flat. At all.  

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr as fictionhomo (and inmisericorde)
> 
> you can come and prompt me for any of my fandoms/ships/otps


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